


life sized ghosts and gone away exiles

by nerfmylife (brighterthansunflowers)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Childhood Friends, F/M, Friendship/Love, Main Character is Native American, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Platonic Romance, Romantic Friendship, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 15:22:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13390650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brighterthansunflowers/pseuds/nerfmylife
Summary: The reason for their connection across separate Universes has no explanation. It just is. Their ghosts haunt each other, plague each other's minds, infect their conscious thoughts. Until one day it stops. He disappears.He reappears. And it begins again. But only for a moment because she disappears into a sandy snowstorm."Take me back." The words played like a distorted chorus within her mind. "Come back."Nobody would answer her fear-speckled shouts for help. Nobody except a girl with bright eyes, tears pooling in the corners.And soon, the concept of loneliness that had left its fingerprints on all their hearts had slowly started to disappear.Everything disappears in the end.Except the stories about them.They'll become the stuff of legends.|| a story about a native american girl who finds herself in the star wars universe and can do nothing except play along and maybe change a few lives while she's at it ||akamodern girl with star-drunken eyes enters the star wars universe and tries to find an explanation for why.





	life sized ghosts and gone away exiles

 

**_For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream._ **  
**_\- Vincent Van Gogh_ **

**…**

_“You're thinking too fast, you're like marbles on glass.”_

_He spoke the language of the universe, his hand holding mine and I could feel the quiet rage simmering beneath the surface of his damaged skin._

_I broke the laws of the universe, holding the hand of an impossible man who shouldn't exist but I would never stop searching for the footprints he left behind in the snow._

**…**

“Wake up, Rory.” A hand nudged me and I adjusted my position on the bench, shifting so I faced away from whoever woke me up. The nudge turned into a shove and I slid off the bench and onto the dirty floor. “Shower's open.” My roommate, Taylor, resumed putting on her street clothes and I started peeling my gym clothes off on my way to the open shower cubicle. I tossed my 'Training for the First Order' tank top over my shoulder for my friend who caught it and tossed it in my open gym bag. Once in the tiny cubicle I pulled the shower curtain closed and put the rest of my clothing in the corner by the entrance. I heard an indignant huff but no protest and counted it as a win. She replaced my sweaty clothes with a towel.

All alone to my musings I thought back to the small dream I had but I remembered nothing. I don't know why I thought something would change this time. I never remembered the content of my dreams. I could only remember feelings and small sensations. It had felt like I was floating among the stars with another, my hand remaining warm after coming back to the waking world. But beyond that, there was nothing. Just nothing. I had a distinct feeling it was my imaginary friend I was flying across the night sky with but per usual, he did not speak up from the back of my mind to confirm or deny. In fact, my imaginary friend had been frustratingly silent lately. Ever since-

A muffled laugh from my friend interrupted my train of thought and I threw a half-hearted glare behind me. “Why do you have so many First Order shirts in here?” With an inaudible mumble I adjusted the shower's temperature to freezing, taking my time standing underneath the chilly waterfall. Right before my bones started to freeze over I turned off the shower and quickly dried myself off. My friend did not leave me a First Order shirt to wear I noted with a small scowl. A muted laugh resounded from the back of my mind and my scowl deepened. My imaginary friend apparently found this amusing. I changed into clean underclothes and stepped out from the shower cubicle to finish changing.

“What's wrong with the First Order?” I stopped in my tracks at my own words. The next second we're laughing, both of us shaking our heads in mutual understanding. I slipped on the sheer black shirt my friend handed me to wear. My sports bra peeked through so I threw on my baggy black and purple striped sweatshirt. To complete my hobo look I pulled on a pair of black leggings and loosely tied my worn sneakers on.

I glanced up at my friend to check if she was ready to leave. She gave me a thumbs up after combing through her cropped blonde hair and handed me my gym bag on our way out. We exited the gym and hopped in her car to drive back home to our small apartment. I had moved out of my parent's home half a year ago and not once was I homesick. Taylor thought it odd but had a theory that pointed at my often absent parents. Sure, blame my neglectful parents. Not their fault they're busy. Not my mother's fault she'd rather be out with friends than stay at home with me. Not my father's fault that his job needs him more than I need him.

However, it did not explain my imaginary friend whose existence persisted over the years. Taylor didn't have a theory and I was left clueless. I can't remember the exact age I was when he first appeared in my life. But he filled and consumed my childhood nonetheless. I recovered old drawings and detailed descriptions from dusty old boxes and kept them safely hidden to look at during the days he did not make an appearance.

A tingle raced up my arm and electrified my veins. I peered around my seat to see him sitting there in the back, patiently waiting for the car ride to be over. His eery helmet tilted in my direction and I ripped my gaze away to stare back out the passenger window. My friend noticed my sudden movements and hesitated on making a comment.

After a long troubling silence that stretched for several minutes, my friend cut the tension with an awkward laugh. “Is he back there?” Another tingle grazed my arm and I checked to make sure he hadn't left. I tilted my head back at him, observing and mentally writing down every detail that sprung out at me. He looked like an overgrown child sitting there with his hands in his lap. I could sense two emotions coming from the helmeted man. Curiosity and a...warm familiarity. The second emotion was harder to put a label after it transformed into something more. Something akin to fondness. I jerked away in disbelief, catching the worried eyes of my friend. Bright blue eyes blinked at me and my dull brown eyes closed in return.

“Yes,” I replied simply.

“Is it really...him?” I knew what she meant by 'him'. I just didn't want to acknowledge it. Was too afraid to. It meant that this stretched beyond the ordinary definition of imaginary friend. Because there was no way my mind was that creative. I couldn't have been the first one to come up with the concept of this man, of the boy he was before. My loneliness did not conjure up the idea of a constant companion. Mostly because I could argue that I wasn't lonely as a child. I just...existed. And others existed around me. And my imaginary friend existed just as much as them.

I nodded, my eyes reopening to face the window.

“Did he always look like...that?” I also knew what she meant by 'that'. Did he always look like a Grim Reaper lookalike? No. Once upon a time, he appeared to me as an ordinary kid you would see running across the street to the local playground. We grew up together despite the small age difference. The gap was wide enough to tell the differences in our life experiences. He started his teenage years without me. He started his adulthood without me. Curiosity soared from behind me. I watched as his once exaggerated features pulled together to create an even more pleasing face. I watched as the boy who was the same height as me grew into a 6 foot imposing figure. After I finished explaining all of this to Taylor, I could sense a small surge of fondness mingle with the curiosity. It did nothing to settle the unease I felt at the base of my spine.

I refused to look back.

I didn't want to confirm what my eyes already told me.

Kylo Ren was my imaginary friend.

Taylor parked the car in front of our apartment building and I made a quick decision. I told her my intentions on visiting my family. She protested, saying that she should at least drive me there. Just in case they aren't home, her mind finished. I argued that it was only a few blocks away and that I'd be fine. I had my imaginary friend after all.

“Adults don't have imaginary friends,” she snapped at me and I visibly flinched. She was right. Doesn't mean the truth hurt any less. Taylor looked ready to apologize but I cut her off. I had only recently started telling her all of this strange personal stuff. Should've told her sooner. Shouldn't have told her at all.

“I know.”

Streetlamps lit the familiar path home. I walked this way multiple times over the last few months only to turn back once at the door. It was a habit I have yet to break. My eyes unknowingly searched for the north star, letting the twinkling light guide me down the street. The night sky surrounded me and kept me company as it so often did in the past.

I heard the crunching of snow beside me and resisted the urge to stare at the disappearing footprints he left behind. It was a bewildering phenomenon that debunked my lingering theory of him being a ghost that liked to hide in my shadow. No longer could my own curiosity resist so I tore my forced stare from the stars above to the snow below. With each thunk his lumbering steps made, a footprint followed. It erased itself from existence moments later and it made me wonder if he would ever disappear from my life in a similar way.

Almost thought he did back in December, before the holidays came and gone. Before the Force Awakens came out. Before I decided to finally watch the trailers to indulge my inner child who was still obsessed with Darth Vader. He did not provide any explanation for his disappearance. Just came back in my life as if nothing significant changed.

For the time being, he ignored me and I ignored him. It was a mutual unspoken decision to pretend everything was all right when in reality, it was not. Childish? Probably, but I refused to be the first one to bring up the topic.

The footprints stopped.

And there I was. At the front step of my childhood home. My hand was poised, ready to knock and wait for the inevitable disappointment. From the corner of my eye, I could see the tire tracks in the snowy driveway. They were both gone, as expected. With a heavy sigh I lowered my arm and reached for the hidden key under the welcome mat. One of these days the key wouldn't be there and the locks would be changed. Not today, it seemed.

I let myself in and made a beeline for the fridge. I didn't stop to take my shoes off, not caring if I tracked snow in. Might as well let them know I paid them a visit. A slice of cold pizza became my dinner. A grunt of disapproval from my side that I ignored. This was enough, I reasoned. After I finished my small meal, I went from room to room to see if anything changed. Aside from the empty spaces my old stuff occupied, there was nothing new. My parents' lives went on normally without me. Perhaps even more smoothly. Maybe their marriage was less rocky now that I was out of the picture.

I peeked in their bedroom, the masked terror still standing beside me as I leaned against the doorway making observations. The bed was made. My father's gun and badge were missing. My mother's scrubs and tennis shoes were gone. Must be one of those nights. I shut the door and made my way down the hallway to my old room. I wanted to avoid it but my shaky hand betrayed me and reached for the doorknob. Memories of being locked in, escaping through the window, and hiding on the roof made its way to the surface of my turbulent mind. As if struck with electricity, I tumble away from the door and back down the hall.

There was one last room to visit. The attic. I had to double check for any lost belongings I might've stashed up there. I opened the creaky old door, discomfort rising at the idea of climbing the stairs towards the dark abyss. The attic was like something out of a horror movie, something that you would avoid at all costs because it would lead to poltergeists and hauntings.

Someone stood in the way between me and the stairway. I squinted. It was him. This was the first time in months he's directly confronted me. He's left me in the dark for far too long. I refused to let him have the first word. Trouble was, I couldn't find any perfect first words to end our game of 'who can stay quiet the longest'. There were many questions that started with the word why but none of them begged to be asked. In the end, I went with a casual opening line.

“Hey.”

“Guess what?”

A grin inched its way on my face. We played hide and seek often as kids. And once we found each other...

“What?”

“Gotcha.”

What he did next made my heart stop. Made my chest tight. Made it hard to breathe. It was a feeling I had no desire to relive.

He disappeared.

That was the complete opposite of what we did after we found each other.

I stared at the blank space he once occupied, waiting and waiting and waiting...for what, I wasn't sure. For him to come back? For him to tell me it was just a joke? For him to explain himself? The room became freezing cold and it made my skin itch. I tugged on my hoodie with awkward, jerky movements. Unexpected tears prickled my eyes and I wiped at them furiously, charging up the stairs without a backwards glance.

Dust flew everywhere with every stomping step I took. The whole house shook and creaked and groaned as the wind picked up speed outside. Great. Another winter storm. The thought of having to trudge back home through the snow distracted me long enough from my sinking stomach and heavy heart. Better to focus on the bone chilling cold and the heavy stale air up here in the attic than to focus on his disappearance.

Every old childhood fear came back to haunt me at once. It was pitch black. Silence rang in my ears. The darkness suffocated me until my foot caught the edge of a box and I tripped, falling down a slope that wasn't there before. I went head first, waiting for the crash, for my body to meet solid ground, and for the pain to stab the corners of my brain.

It never happened.

Just my luck.

I heard unknown sounds all around me. None of it could be pinpointed to an exact source. I thought I heard his voice but it was muffled by the water I was drowning in.

Wait, no.

There was no water. Unless it was snow? Can you drown in snow? I heard of something similar. The condition is known as Snow Immersion Asphyxiation. It happens when you fall into an area of unconsolidated snow, unable to move for fear of sinking further and the snow solidifying like concrete around you. Is that what was happening to me?

What if it was sand? God, I hate sand.

Everything was collapsing around me. All sounds turned into white noise, tickling my eardrums. Am I still falling? Or am I flying? My earthbound limbs were free. Hot air flew past my flailing limbs. Icy sweat started to stain my skin.

Finally, I landed. Only one question flooded my mind. Where am I? As soon as the static released my body, I struggled to crawl up the sandy hill I found myself on. Pure fright threatened to overtake me as throbbing pains hindered my progress. No, no, I was dreaming. This was a nightmare. Traipsing through course, rough, irritating sand...why did it feel so real? And why was it everywhere?

Dusk quickly turned to night. The stars...they weren't the bright guideposts I clung to. There was no North Star or Big Dipper or Little Dipper. These stars were unfamiliar. New. I wasn't in the Sahara desert. I wasn't in the Great Basin desert. I wasn't on Earth at all.

Skipping past the stage of confusion, my rocket-fueled fear and panic burst through my veins at the startling revelation. I screamed at the sky. “Take me back!” I screamed at anybody who might be listening. “Take me back!” I reached the top of the hill and started sprinting towards the great unknown, my eyes focused on the blurry faraway stars. If I squinted hard enough, I could imagine a ship taking off without me, leaving me behind to rot on this desert world.

And when I went tumbling backwards over an unknown object sticking out from the ground, I sunk a little deeper into the sand and secretly wished for it to swallow me whole. With the sand hugging my back and seeping into my pores, I gave one last final plea to the sky above.

“Come back.”

That's when I noticed it. The familiar presence of Kylo Ren was gone. My mind was clear for the first time in years. And I hated the emptiness that followed.


End file.
